


The Artist and the Auror

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: rarepair_shorts, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Magical Portraits, Post-War, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24492595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: Ron needs to get a professional portrait done. He's surprised to find out who the artist is, and is struggling to get along with her.
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 31
Collections: Rare Pair Shorts - Summer Wishlist Event 2020





	The Artist and the Auror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sportivetricks (tamlane)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/gifts).



> **Request/Prompt Used:** : [From the prompt list](https://rarepair-shorts.dreamwidth.org/628208.html?thread=2162416#cmt2162416): Mirrors, Portraits, "You'll have to do better than that."  
>  **Recipient:** [](https://sportivetricks.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](https://sportivetricks.dreamwidth.org/)**sportivetricks**
> 
>  **Notes:** Totes unbetaed. I hope you like it. I know you're an NC-17 lover but I hope you're ok w/ this slight non-romance pg ficlet. I always say that I only write one HET fic a year and it's 99% of the time for this summer wishlist event fest. As a mod, I try to fulfill all the wishes I can, so there are some personality-bending things I have to do for myself. I hope you enjoy this dear recipient. (PS if you wanna write a spinoff for this and use the bed that's mentioned, you are more than welcome to do so!)

"Serves me right for missing the charity auction," Ron scolded himself as he knocked on the door of an artist's studio trying now to frown at his punishment.

A week before, he'd made a stupid excuse to miss the Ministry gala event to attend a Quidditch match instead, and of course as punishment, his sister decided to put a bid in his name to get a professional portrait done. Ginny hadn't cared he'd missed the gala, but she did care he hadn't taken her to the match with him.

So, here he was ready to sit for hours. Well, he wasn't ready. He didn't know why he had to go through with it. Wasn't it enough they'd won the bid and donated the money to the charity? Why did he actually have to get his portrait done? If he'd had enough time to think, he would have gifted this "prize" to his parents for their wedding anniversary.

The door opened abruptly, and once again, Ron had been a minute too late. If he'd thought about the gift idea before, then he wouldn't have been standing across from the artist.

"Oh, it's you," Ron blurted out without thinking, again. Honestly, he needed to get a grip.

"And it's you," Pansy Parkinson replied, scowling."What do you want, Weasley? I haven't had to answer to an Auror for over a year now."

"Oh…" Ron said stupidly. "I'm not here on behalf of the Ministry. Well, I am, but… You have an appointment for a portrait."

"Yeah, so?" She raised an eyebrow. "If this is some excuse to inspect my studio, you'll have to do better than that."

"No. I'm the appointment. My sister had placed the bid, and well, I won. Apparently."

"How wonderful," she said and turned around to walk away.

Ron didn't know if he was supposed to follow her so he waited a few beats and then walked in.

*

Parkinson's studio was vibrant, and a chaotic mess. It looked like paint was spilled everywhere but in an organised fashion. Some paintings hanging on the wall were moving, some were half done… As he looked around, he saw a small desk with parchment, quill, a few sketches. In the other corner, was a bed.

"Do you live here too?"

"Who's asking?" she replied.

Ron shrugged, pointing out the bed. "Was curious, is all."

"Hmm…" she looked over to where Ron had pointed and then looked away without answering.

"Brilliant," he mumbled to himself. Of course with his luck he was going to be stuck here for hours, and for how many days, he didn't know— with someone who hated Gryffindors, the DMLE, and especially him. "Perfect."

"What are you mumbling over there?"

"Nothing."

"Are we ready to get started?"

Ron nodded. "Where should I stand or sit?"

"What's the purpose of this portrait?" she asked.

"The purpose?" he asked as a reply, utterly confused.

"Is it for your home, or office, or a gift? Perhaps you'd like to be on the bed, and remove your clothes. A naked portrait for your girlfriend…?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"Fine then. A future girlfriend? Or boyfriend?"

Ron shook his head profusely. "No. I don't want a naked portrait at all." His voice was suddenly high-pitched and he felt all sweaty and thirsty. "Maybe…just never mind. Ginny's already paid for service, and the money has already been transferred. Maybe that's enough. I'll leave. There's no need—"

"Wait a minute, Weasley!" Parkinson said, sounding annoyed. "I cannot have it known I didn't provide the services required of me."

"You make it sound like I paid for sex," Ron said.

"Is that what you want instead?"

"What? No!"

"Relax, Weasley. I'm joking."

"Oh. Okay. But, really. I didn't want a portrait. This is more of a punishment than a gift, so it's okay. I'll say it was fine! Job well done and no one is going to ask for any proof." 

"I have to do something!" she said, looking tired.

"Um…why don't you paint something, anything, you like and I'll come back in a few days and pick that up. It doesn't have to be my portrait. Maybe it can be like flowers or mountains or something…"

"Flowers or mountains?" she asked, sounding disinterested. "How radical and clever." 

"Okay, so what do you like to do?" Ron looked around the room and found most of Parkinson's paintings to be abstract. The portraits he'd seen when he'd entered looked like people who mattered to her. Otherwise, it was everything that went way above Ron's head. There was one though which had caught his eye, and then he couldn't look away from it.

It was a painting of a woman who was surrounded by mirrors—in each reflection she was someone different. It was the same woman but her face, hair, clothes were different. In some of the reflections, she was naked. And in the background, it was nothing but shoes—as if the woman was being watched by hundreds of people.

"Right…" Ron mumbled to himself. "This…"

"What?" Parkinson asked as she walked up a little closer to Ron.

"I like this one. I think it's my favourite thing in this room."

"Hmm…" she said, and this time, she sounded anything but disinterested. "It's called _Not My Choice_."

"I get that," Ron said softly. "Can you make me something like this? But instead of… this woman… it's me."

"You related to _this_ painting?"

Ron couldn't look away from the piece of art. The way the images in the painting moved was really resonating with him. The woman in the reflections smiled and frowned and then looked perfect and it was mesmerising to watch.

"I… I know what it's like to have all your actions monitored. The _Prophet_ always writing about you, and your life, and your _break up_." He cleared his throat quickly. "I mean, I'm no Harry Potter, but doesn't mean, I'm also not followed on my missions, criticised in the public eye…"

Ron knew after the war, many people had to report to the Ministry, were put on trial, and performed community service. Parkinson was one of them.

"It's not the same. I know, you're going to say that, and I know that. Believe me. But…I love this painting, alright? If you want, I'll buy this off you, or you can create me a new one."

"You can't buy it. It's not for sale," Parkinson snapped. "Besides, I can't take money, that's the whole point, Weasley."

Ron shrugged. "No one has to know."

"If I hear that bloody sentence one more time in my life—"

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. Why don't we come up with some sort of plan then? I can help you. You can start with your drafts and I'll provide input if you'll have it, and then we can work it out."

"I'm very busy, Weasley, I can't drop everything to paint for you."

At that, Ron was even more confused. "No problems. We can work on your schedule. Why don't you tell me when you're free next and I'll bring us coffee and cake…" And as if on cue, Ron's stomach grumbled. "Fantastic. I knew I should have had lunch before coming—"

"I have some time right now," she said. Her voice sounded so different, Ron wasn't sure if someone else hadn't simply walked into the room. "I'll call for a house-elf to bring us some tea and sandwiches."

"Bless you!" Ron said, feeling relieved.

"I pay her. If you need to write in your report," Parkinson said.

"Pay who? What report?" Ron was confused again.

Parkinson rolled her eyes. "My house-elf. I pay her and treat her better than anyone in my family ever treated a house-elf."

"Of course. Yeah. Didn't think why you would do anything else, otherwise. So, we can get started?" Ron asked, eager.

"Have a seat," she said and called for her house-elf to bring them tea and snacks.

*

The afternoon went by quickly, and Ron liked all the ideas Pansy had. He kept on nodding over and over again for everything she suggested and he was excited to come back the next day, or whenever, to see the first draft. He hoped it'd be soon because when Parkinson wasn't ready to bite his head off, she was kind of actually really nice.

_Nice to look at, too._

"Okay, so I'll go then," Ron said, standing up awkwardly. "Please owl me when you're available next, and if I don't have to work—"

"I'm free this weekend," she said hastily.

"Brilliant. Me too."

"Fine," she said.

"Fine," he said.

"So I'll see you Saturday."

"Great," said Ron. "I'll bring something to eat. I hope it'll be nice weather."

"If it is, then maybe we can sit in the garden."

Ron nodded, grinning. Suddenly, he was excited to leave the house this weekend and not because he had a Quidditch match to attend.


End file.
